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How I Became A Slut For An Older Man - Part 1

"How my Dad's friend made me his slut"

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At the time of this story I was eighteen, had shoulder-length reddish brown hair and a very nice body. I worked out, spending most days in the gym squatting and working on my tight body and big bum, or in college working towards becoming a PE teacher.

My evenings were spent in a similarly routine fashion, either helping my Dad and my brothers on our farm or working behind the bar in the local rugby club. We’re a big rugby family: my dad had played and now coached the first team. Both my brothers played in the juniors.

As a hot girl surrounded by so many big rugby men, you can imagine the jokes I had to put up with, the playful flirting I had to deal with and the general raucousness of rugby men. I suppose I always enjoyed the attention but was still fairly innocent.

I’d had sex but only with a few ex-boyfriends and never anyone from the club. That was forbidden and it was made easier for me that my Dad’s best friend, Paul was first team manager. He kept most of the men off me!

So, now I have set the scene, let me tell you my story.

This weekend started like most weekends. Life was rather boring at the time but I was up bright and early to help out on the farm, then into my Dad’s car for a ride to the club. I was working the bar from noon till close that day which meant, if the team won, I could be there until three in the morning. Great, I thought as I got dressed for the day.

I wore nothing remarkable, just a simple green thong and bra, a work polo shirt (not very flattering) and a pair of Nike gym leggings - you know, the type that make your bum look on point. Still between gym, farm work and the rugby club, this was pretty much all I ever wore, along with simple makeup and my hair scraped up into a messy bun on the top of my head.

At the club, I climbed out of my Dad’s car already looking to get my shift over so I could head home. My family were going away to Scotland after today’s matches and I was hoping, if I got finished early enough, I could invite a few of my friends over or maybe even just a guy. After all, it had been a few weeks and I wasn't short of offers.

My day progressed fairly normally until about fifteen minutes after the final whistle in the first team game when I got a telephone call in the bar from my Dad’s best friend Paul.

"Hi Viki, it’s Paul in the changing rooms. The lads want to celebrate; could you bring a couple of bottles of champagne to us?”

The line went dead. I was very nervous. In all the years I’d been coming to the club I’d never been near the changing rooms. But I took a deep breath, grabbed the bottles and headed over. The changing room door was shut.

I knocked and heard a shout, “Come in.”

I swung the door open - and I had fallen for it, the oldest trick in the book for rugby guys. I was surrounded by cock, more cock, and bulging muscles everywhere. I was in shock and, blushing, I looked around the room of hot guys and big dicks looking for someone to accept the bottles.

My gaze focused on Paul. He was sensational. I had never thought of him like this, how could I? He was Dad’s best friend and old enough to be my father himself!

But my eyes lingered on his frame. He looked huge, around six foot four I thought, and all muscle. His chiseled jaw was covered by light stubble and his rugged good looks were topped off by a shaven head. I stared; I couldn't help it. I eyed his body until I got to his cock and boy was it a sight: huge, a meaty nine inches and easily bigger than any of the boys I had been with.

Flustered, I turned on my heels and ran out of the changing room, leaving the bottles on a bench. I was dreading seeing the players again but later, one by one, they came into the bar fully dressed, ordered a drink and apologised.

The moment I’d been dreading most of all happened when Paul entered the bar, walked over and sat down. Thank god he apologised!

"Viki, I apologise for what happened earlier. You know the rugby culture and the boys thought it would be the best time to give you your barmaid’s initiation. Do us all a favour, though, and don't tell your dad.”

"I won't," I replied as I bent over to get Paul a bottle from the fridge.

As I did, I’m sure he checked me out but I brushed it off as my imagination. Even if he had, he wouldn't be the first person and certainly not the last to ogle at my bum. I handed him the drink and flashed him a smile but, before I could turn away, he drew me back.

"Viki, I’m going to get these guys out of here early tonight because I don't want you locking up too late on your own. Plus, I’m giving you a lift and don't want to be here that late myself.”

How could I refuse? After all, I wanted an early finish.

My shift flew by in a blur of busy madness and by eleven-thirty only myself and Paul were left in the bar. He went to collect his car while I went through the usual lock-up process. Soon, I was climbing into Paul's Range Rover full of excitement for an early finish and in the knowledge that Tom, a handsome guy from college, was due to be arriving tonight. After seeing all those naked guys earlier, my mind had wandered and I'd phoned Tom. Now I was a least hoping to get some action with him.

Paul drove us into the countryside towards my farm and our conversation was light. Then, suddenly, his demeanour changed and he pulled to a stop at the side of the road

"Viki, we need to talk," he said while he gave me a stern look. "I was apprehensive about asking you into the changing rooms today but I’m glad I did. You’re a very bad girl, aren't you?”

I was shocked. "I don't know what you're talking about Paul," I retorted but, before I could react further, a huge hand landed on my leg and he stroked my thigh through my leggings.

"I really like how you dress Viki,” he said. “Such a tease wearing these tight gym pants to the club knowing all the guys will be eyeing your arse.

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You know exactly what I’m talking about, you slut. I saw you drooling over my naked body and my cock. Did you want it Viki? Did you want my cock?"

“What? No Paul… take me home. This is wrong. If my dad found out…”

He cut me off, still stroking my thigh. "Your Dad nothing, slut. I have known him for thirty-five years and he would never believe it. I know you want me. I saw it in your eyes as you looked at my cock and I could just as easily tell my wife and daughter that you came onto me. And I know how close you are to them.”

"You wouldn't," I shouted as his hand slid further up my thigh, rolling to the inside to try and reach my most intimate area.

"Nobody needs to know," he said.

My body was surrendering to this hot older man, and I admit my pussy was soaking and I parted my legs slightly to allow him access. He pressed huge fingers against my pussy and started to rub me through my leggings. I let out a huge moan and we knew he had me at that point.

"Good little slut,” he said as he unbuckled my belt and moved a hand under my t-shirt to fondle my boobs. "You want to see my cock don't you, whore?”

I had never been spoken to like this before but I loved it - it was getting me so horny and he was right: I was desperate to see his cock again

"Beg for it then, you slut.”

And, without question, I did. “Please Paul, please can I see your cock?”

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my nipple and saw anger in his face. "You stupid little slut; you call me Daddy from now on. Understand?"

"But Paul,” I replied, "this is wrong.” Pain flashed through my body again and I couldn't fight it anymore. “Please, Daddy, please let me see your huge cock. I will do anything you ask, Daddy.”

He nodded and my hand shot to undo his trousers. In seconds, his cock sprang out and it was even bigger than I remembered. Paul grabbed my head and pulled it over to his cock, shoving it into my waiting mouth. God was it huge! How did this happen? My day had started normally and now here I was sucking my Dad’s best friend’s cock on all fours in his car like a nasty little slut with him fingering my pussy through my gym leggings.

I couldn't wait anymore: I needed this giant of a man to fuck me. I didn't care that I went to college with his daughter and my mum worked with his wife. I didn't even care he was my Dad’s friend, I just wanted to be his. Paul must have sensed this as he relented from fucking my mouth and pushed me into the back of the car before coming to join me.

"Show me that perfect arse, you whore.”

I did. He peeled down my leggings, exposing my panties, and he moved them to the side. Without warning he thrust fingers deep inside me. I let out a huge moan, louder than I’d ever done before, and he started to finger fuck me.

"You want this to be my cock, don't you whore?” he said with such authority. Who was I kidding? Yes, I wanted it.

"Yes Daddy, please… fuck me,” I begged between moans.

Paul spun me over to my front and, without much ceremony, drove his huge cock deep inside me. “Arrgghhh," I cried as he began to pound me, every inch bringing me closer to orgasm, every thrust making me beg for more.

Every reaction was evidence to Paul that he was my master and I would do anything he asked. He knew now he could fuck me whenever he wanted. Orgasm after orgasm ripped through my body but Paul kept fucking, his huge body dwarfing mine as he completely dominated me.

"I want you to tell me who owns your pussy, you slut," he shouted as his huge shaft slammed into me again.

“It’s yours Daddy, you own me," I cried.

"Beg me for my cum," he shouted as he closed on orgasm.

"Please Daddy, please cum in me,” I shouted back, desperate to please him.

Then he exploded, shooting his cum deep inside me. I tightened my legs around his body, pulling him deeper, but before I could relax he removed his huge cock and forced it into my mouth to clean and slid his fingers into my pussy, scooping a big gob of juices. He brought his fingers towards my mouth.

"Prove to me that you are mine, slut,” he whispered in his usual stern tone. I did this without question, licking his fingers dry. I was now totally compliant to this man: a man who was nearly thirty years my senior, a married man and my Dad’s best friend.

He tossed me my leggings to put on and we resumed the drive home. I could still taste his cock in my mouth and I felt his cum running out of me into my panties and my leggings. I was sure it would create a wet spot on the seat. I was daydreaming, wondering if this would ever happen again and then I snapped back into the real world as he started to explain to me the rules.

"Viki, you will not tell anyone about what we do, it will always be discreet,” he said. “You will be at my beck and call to use whenever I want. You will always perform whenever and with whoever I decide. You will always dress like a little slut in outfits I approve, even when you are not seeing me. And, finally, you will only fuck people I allow; you must never give your pussy to anyone but you can suck anyone you choose. Oh, and next time I am going to fuck that perfect arse,” he finished as we pulled onto my drive.

I was so horny but so glad to be home and then… Oh my god, Tom was sitting in his car as we pulled up.

“You'd better not fuck that guy,” Paul said.

"We were just going to hang out, Daddy,” I said.

A smirk appeared on Paul's face and I knew he had something in mind. “Well, if I am going to train you into being a perfect slut, the more practice the better, I guess,” he said. "You will invite him in, get him a beer, shower and get into your sexiest lingerie and suck him until he cums on your face… I want pictures,” he laughed. "Now run along, slut.”

“Yes, Daddy" I cooed. I was his fuck toy and we both knew it.

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Written by Slut_Viki
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